


Five times Gleb got the candy and one time he didn't

by Xyrias_Sol



Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: F/M, although I admit it's only like half fluffy, but hey it's my first atempt at fluff!, fluffvember
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 05:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12675267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyrias_Sol/pseuds/Xyrias_Sol
Summary: The title says it all.Inspired by Ramin Karimloo's love for sweets in the vlog.





	Five times Gleb got the candy and one time he didn't

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Jacq, who was immediatly interested in my headcanon and caused me to think a bit more about it, so it finally truned into this (surprisingly long) fic!  
> As always warnings for mistakes, since English isn't my native language.

It was only the beginning of spring, the wind still cold and only a few daring flowers could be spotted among the grey and brown of the city.

With gloves too big for his tiny hands Gleb holds onto his mother's hand. His fingers are already turning into ice and he can't imagine how cold his mothers' bare hands were. Still they hold onto each other as they steadily make their way to the market. He guesses she forgot how it felt like to be warm, just like him.

Excitedly Gleb starts to hop and swing mama's and his arm forwards and backwards. He loves going to the market. There's so much to see there! While Mamochka likes to look at the boring food and occasionally some fabrics, Gleb prefers the market stalls, where they sell pretty dolls and warm food so he gets enveloped in all the wonderful smells.

But the most important stalls are the ones that sell sweets! From the simplest chocolate and caramel candy to the most delicious looking confectionery like Pastila, Zefir and Syrniki. Gleb's mouth already starts to water just thinking of them. He hasn't eaten any candy in so long. Every time they pass one of the stalls and Gleb begs Mamochka to buy one, just one little Zefir, she shakes her head and drags him along, while he looks back at them with such longing in his eyes that one could think he loves nothing more than these sweets. Which is true...almost. First come Mamochka and Babushka and Papa and right after them candy.

When they finally reach the full market and all sorts of delicious smells start to swirl around his nose, he feels his hunger even more. They didn't have dinner last night, but his mother has promised him some fresh bread today.

Smiling from ear to ear he trots along with his mother while she goes from stall to stall, carefully counting the precious coins each time before exchanging them with some bread, vegetables and even the tiniest bit of meat.

They almost just walk by the sweets, carefully laid out on a table, but Gleb pulls at his mother's arm until she gives in and follows him to the candy stall.

With huge eyes, full of wonder and excitement, Gleb studies each of the candy and confectionery in front of him. The old woman with a face fully made out of wrinkles smiles at him and starts to tell his mother the prices. Gleb doesn't listen, instead he closes his eyes and tries to imagine the sweets' taste.

His mother starts saying: “No, thank you. We don't have enough...” But Gleb cuts her off and excitedly points at one especially delicious looking Pastila. “Oh Mamochka, please! It looks so good. Just one Pastila, just this one, please Mamochka!”, he begs.

Sadly she looks down at him. “Glebka...”, she starts, but stops. His innocent big brown eyes look so pleadingly at her that she can't bear it. He already has so little, is so often hungry and cold, but he still smiles at her so often.

Carefully she pulls out her last remaining coins and moves to give them to the old woman. Gleb's face has already turned into a look of pure happiness. It's as if his face was the sun, so radiantly he smiles. His tiny arms move around his mother as he hugs her so tightly, that she wonders where this sudden strength comes from. “Spasibo, Mamochka!”

She can't help but smile back at him, the coins still in her outstretched hand. But the old woman shakes her head at them and instead picks up the Pastila, gently lowering it into Gleb's outstretched hand with a soft smile on her face.

Before Gleb's mother could protest or even blink, the sweet small square of pressed fruit paste had already vanished inside Gleb's mouth.

“Gleb!”, his mother says exasperated. The old woman just laughs heartily, while Gleb grins brightly at them with the most happy smile either of them have ever seen.

* * *

With a small oil lamp in his hand Gleb examines the little shelf, which bears the family's small collection of books. He has already read every single one of them together with Mamochka, so which one would he choose to read on his own tonight? He can't ponder for too long, or Papa will be angry with him for wasting the precious lamp oil. Especially after he fell asleep on a book last night, while the lamp happily continued to spread her light.

He finally makes his choice and pulls out the biggest and heaviest book in their collection. His favourite: Les Miserablés.

With the book in one and the lamp in the other hand he carefully makes his way to the little table in the corner and makes himself comfortable.

He only had the chance to open the book, before he gets interrupted by a soft knock on the door. Gleb hesitates. He's not sure whether he should open it. Papa is still working and Mamochka is gone for a quick check on her ill friend. She said, she'll return soon and he should be her good little boy and just read something while she's gone.

“Glebka, I know you're in there, don't you hide and let your old Babushka catch her death in the cold.”

He hears the smile in her voice; she's joking. It's a pleasant mild summer evening.

Involuntarily a grin forms on his face. The book is forgotten and he runs to the door to hug his Babushka tightly. She returns the gesture and strokes his black hair. 

“You've grown since the last time I've been here, and that is only two days ago, Glebka. If I don't watch out you're taller than me in the blink of an eye!”

He laughs and steps back. “Don't worry, Babushka. I'm still only tall enough to reach your shoulders.”

Again, she pats his head and smiles at him. “Won't you let your Babushka in?”, she asks.

Hurriedly he steps aside and closes the door behind his grandmother. 

Laughing she walks past the table, the heavy book still open on it, and sits down on a worn arm chair by the empty fireplace. “I get the feeling that soon you'll be able to quote that whole book out of your head, Glebka”, she snickers.

Sitting down in front of her on the floor he embarrassedly looks down. “I haven't read it _that_ much, Babushka”, he silently says, fully knowing that he actually memorised some parts of the story already. His fingers have suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world and he carefully inspects them, while Babushka looks at him with such affection only a proud grandmother can have towards her only grandson.

“Where are my dear son and your Mamochka, leaving you all alone?”  
Happy for the change of topic, Gleb looks up again and replies: “I think Papa is still working and Mamochka said she'll be right back. Why are you here, Babushka?”

Sadness clouds his grandmother's otherwise always happy eyes. A sorrowful smile appears on her lips. “Didn't your Papa tell you, Glebka? I'm going to live with you now.”

The memory hits Gleb abruptly and tears threaten to roll down his cheeks. _Dedushka has died only a few days ago._

“No, don't cry, Glebka. We'll have much fun together now, won't we?”

As if she was about to tell him a great secret, she looks right and then left, before bending down to him and whispering: “I've even brought you a little present.”

Sweet chocolate appears in her hand and just as she was about to give it to him, the house's door creaks open and Gleb's father appears.

“Ah, mother. I told you I would be coming for you, so you don't have to walk the whole way alone.”

In the moment he turns his back to the both of them to hang up his coat, Gleb's grandmother thrusts the chocolate in her grandson's hand and smiles innocently at her son as he turns around again. As if sensing something had just happened behind his back, he examines his family members suspiciously.

“I hope you haven't brought Gleb sweets again, Mother. You'll spoil that child.” Sternly he looks at his son. 

So fast that his hand is only a blur, Gleb puts the chocolate in his mouth and looks up to Papa with a sheepish smile on his face.

Sergey Vaganov is able to hold up the stern look for another few seconds before he breaks into a small smile.

The taste of the delicious dark chocolate still on his tongue, Gleb beams back.

* * *

There's white all around him. So much white it hurts his eyes. But as he continues to walk, the white gradually becomes more and more grey and bright spots of red and grey green appear everywhere.

His breath builds tiny clouds in the cold air. Gleb can't remember ever being so cold. Not even in all those winters they didn't have enough wood to make the house warm has he been as cold as he is now. At least he had thick blankets and the warm bodies of his Mamochka and Papa beside him.

There is nobody at his side now.

Small droplets of red trail after him as he continues forward. The gun heavy on his shoulder.

 _I have to find him_ , he thinks. _Where is he?_

His eyes scan his surroundings, hovering over every grey green from in the snow.

_I have promised him he would see his Nadya again._

He can't break his promise. 

It becomes harder and harder to put one foot in front of the other. The cold air burns in his lungs every time he takes a breath and the pain in his side is slowly taking over his mind.

 _Where is he? Where is Nikodim?_ , he wonders.

And then he spots him. Gleb had almost walked right past him, but Nikodim's bright blond hair stands out against the otherwise white, red, grey and green.

Nikodim lies crumbled on his side, his hands desperately clutching his stomach and his breath forming puffy clouds in the air.

Gleb sinks on his knees beside him, immediately pulling his friend into his lap and evaluating his wound.

_Red...so much red…_

His favourite colour smeared all over his comrade.

“Nikodim! Nikodim, can you hear me?!”, Gleb almost screams.

Cold blue eyes slowly focus on his face.

“Gl...Gleb?”, his comrade's voice barely more than a whisper.

Again Gleb looks at the wound, presses his own hands atop Nikodim's, fully knowing that it won't make a difference. Forcing himself to smile, Gleb turns his attention back to his friend's face.

“Just hold on, comrade. It's all going to be fine.” The whispered words are as much for Nikodim as for himself.

“N...Nadya...Nadya?”, Gleb has to lean down now to hear his comrade's words. He feels his heart begin to crack as he understands him. Tears are threatening to break out of his eyes.

He hopes his smile can fool Nikodim. “Yes, you'll see her. You'll see Nadya soon.”

Nikodim closes his eyes, taking one deep breath before opening them again, mischief in his eyes. One hand slowly moves up to rest above his heart. “I know h...how much you...you li...like...”

He can't finish. The blue eyes stare up at Gleb, no life left in them.

Tears run freely over his face, freezing to icy pearls on his cheeks.

“No! No, Nikodim!”

Gleb's voice breaks as he rests his forehead on that of his friend's. He wouldn't be sitting here without him and now he will never be able to pay him back.

Curious as to why Nikodim was positioning his hand above his heart, he slips his hand underneath the man's jacket, trying to find something he might have hid there.

As he removes his hand a solid square piece of caramel lies in his hand. Nikodim must have carried around the candy for months now, if not even since before he went to war. And he had kept it all this time. Giving it to Gleb with his last breath.

Closing his fingers around the caramel, Gleb bows down his head.

He barely manages to get up and as he stands above his fallen comrade, his brother in arms for months and friend on the streets for years, he thinks he doesn't have the energy to get out of this place.

Mirroring Nikodim, Gleb rises his fist, still holding the candy, and rests it atop his heart.

Choking on his words he says: “Thank you, comrade.”

* * *

Standing, as so often, on his large window overlooking the Nevsky Prospect, Deputy Commissioner Gleb Vaganov watches the people of Russia go their ways, whether they be good or bad.

He almost just closes his eyes and leans his forehead on the cool glass. It's been some exhausting days lately.

With a start he stands up straight again as he hears a knock on the door.

“Come in”, he says, not turning around to greet the visitor, but still looking down at the people, waiting for a few moments before eventually averting his eyes.

A young officer stands as tense as a board in the door to his office. The eyes looking straight ahead, without ever blinking.

Gleb almost laughs at his new subordinate.

“Sit down, comrade, you look like you're made of stone”, Gleb carefully keeps his amusement out of his voice.

Uncertain the young man looks at him.

 _Ah, so he_ did _hear of my reputation_ , he thinks.

The second chair in his office is more of a decoration than anything. Gleb rarely allows his subordinates to sit when their making their report. It's simply a matter of discipline. 

More than that it also hinders his subordinates to think they could feel comfortable in his office. All are equal now, that is true, but in his office the Deputy Commissioner is to be treated with the right amount of respect.

And higher ranking officers rarely come to Gleb's office personally. 

However, this particular officer deserved his right to sit down now. He had just completed his very first mission with more than satisfying results. An impressive deed indeed.  
As the young man nervously sits down – not without Gleb expectantly staring at him for a few more seconds – Gleb is reminded of himself. He was just as eager to prove himself, to be of use to his beloved Russia. To make his father proud.

Sitting down himself, Gleb examines the new officer again. He's so tense, Gleb fears he'd startle just from the sound of a falling needle. The eyes still don't dare to look at his superior officer.

“So, comrade”, Gleb starts speaking. Just as expected the young man nearly jumps of his seat, before composing himself again. Gleb continues as if nothing had happened: “You did your job well. Very well even. I'm impressed.” He allows a small smile to form on his lips. It's not wrong to give this new protégé a bit of an encouragement.

“Th...thank you...comrade!”, the man stammers.

“I expect you'll perform following duties just as well. Maybe even better.” _That's enough for encouragement_ , Gleb thinks and lets his face be passive again.

“You had a very good start, comrade. But that doesn't mean you can stop working hard now. If you follow the path you have set for yourself however, I can see a bright future for you.”

The young officer can't help, but smile.

“Thank you, comrade! I won't disappoint you.”

Gleb nods. “You are dismissed.”

Without further words Gleb turns his attention to the paperwork waiting on his desk in front of him.

He hears how his subordinate stands up and then...stops. “Oh, my favourite!”, the young man joyfully says.

Disbelieving Gleb looks up again to see the officer taking a piece of candy out of a bowl standing on the desk.

 _What is he thinking? Didn't the others warn him?_ , he wonders and comes to the conclusion that his other subordinates didn't tell this unfortunate man on purpose. Gleb can vividly imagine them laughing next door.

_Well, still no excuse._

Standing up Gleb fixates his eyes on the new officer, who is already about to unwrap the candy. The officer stops and as he looks at his superior he is met with the most terrifying sight he's ever seen. If looks could kill, the man would be dead ten times over.

Shaking on the whole body and apologizing in broken word fragments, the young man puts the candy back into the bowl and leaves the office as fast as it is still apropiate.  
Gleb sights and sits down again. Maybe he has been a bit too encouraging.

Fondly he looks at the bowl filled to the brim with all sorts of candy as he remembers the day, he had received his first payment:

_Gleb can't believe it. He holds more money in his hand than he and his family had ever possessed. Quickly he calculates, that it will be more than enough to pay the rent and enough food for the next months while still leaving loads of leftover. Smiling he begins his shopping tour. The salesmen fix him with disbelieving looks, but he doesn't care about that. He buys enough candy to make up for his childhood years, that had had barely any sweets in it. Back home he eats until he feels too ill to continue. With stomach ache he lies in his bed, smiling. It's one of the happiest days in his life._

Now Gleb has himself under more control and always keeps the bowl full of candy on his desk. Just to remind himself of how far he has come since he was that little boy yearning for the sweets in the market.

And of course, to eat one from time to time.

Gleb grabs the candy his subordinate had tried to steal from him and puts it into his mouth.

Smiling he stands up again to continue watching the people wandering the streets below him.

* * *

With a content smile, Gleb puts a Zefir in his mouth and relishes its sweet taste of chocolate and fruit.

Sitting on the couch in the living room, he tries to catch the last golden sun beams to read in his book, before he has to turn on a lamp in order to still discern the words on the pages. It's a brand new copy of Les Mieserblés, that Anya had gifted him for Christmas. 

The worn copy he and his Mamochka had read in was long gone. Lost in the Civil War. Gleb still sometimes wishes to just feel the yellowed pages under his finger tips one more time. To just hold it and smell its scent of wise words and think back to all those wonderful evenings sitting in Mamochka's lap, struggling to hold the thick volume. Back when the world was simpler and Gleb had only needed to weep for Fantine and Valjean, Enjolras and his fallen friends.

The sun is almost gone when he hears the door to the flat open and close again.

“I'm home!”, he hears.

Again he smiles.

“I actually thought you were a burglar with keys for a moment.”

The unmoved face that appears in the door to the living room tells him he hasn't gotten any better at making jokes.

“Very funny”, she says unamused and comes over to him. At last smiling she presses a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you nonetheless”, she whispers in his ear as she withdraws and walks into the kitchen. Gleb still isn't used to his new living situation and smiles like a little boy after he received his very first kiss from his crush.

“I love you, too, Angel moj”, he tests the words again. They just seem to feel more and more right with every time he says them.

His happy smile quickly transforms into a concerned frown as he hears a screech coming from the kitchen.

“Anya?”, he asks and carefully puts aside the book before standing up to see what is the matter.

He never comes that far.

Anya comes running from the kitchen and pins Gleb down in his seat on the couch.

“Where. Is. My. Candy?!”, she demands. Anger is in her eyes and Gleb feels an emotion he thought he had finally left behind: Fear. Pure fear.

“I...”, he tries.

“Speak!”

“I ate it?”, he says uncertainly.

“You ate all of the Zefir? All of it? That was my monthly ration from Nana! Do you know how hard it is to get it to Paris?”

“You'll get your new ration soon?”, he suggests.

“It's the beginning of February, Gleb. I just _got_ my new ration!”

Softly he reaches up to put a strand of her strawberry blond hair back behind her ear and keeps his hand on her cheek, caressing her soft skin with his thumb.

“I'm sorry, Solnyschko mojo. I really didn't mean to eat it _all_ ”, he says, smiling up at her.

“ _All_? So you were intending to eat _my_ candy without my permission?!”

He sighs. “Look, first thing tomorrow, I'll go and buy you some other candy instead. The French must have some good stuff, too.”

Anya pouts. “Today”, she says.

Gleb's eyes wander to the window. With the sun now completely gone it's quickly getting darker.

“But Anya, it's...” Anya's eyes get big and the pout on her face is still there. _That's what I must have looked like_ , he thinks and gives in, just like his mother all those years ago had.

“Fine. But I'll get a kiss for that.”

His hand is already at the back of her neck, drawing her closer to him.

“A kiss? For eating all my candy? Certainly not.”

But his lips are already so near, she can't resist. They taste of sweet fruits and chocolate and Anya is lost in his embrace for a moment. Abruptly she breaks away and stands up.

“I won't let you in if you don't have the best French candy...and lots of it”, she states.

Laughing Gleb gets up and makes his way to fulfil Anya's wish. As he closes the door behind him, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a Zefir. Truly the last one.

Smiling he eats it and begins to walk through the streets of the City of Lights. 

* * *

The day after Gleb stole all of Anya's Zefir, he again sits alone on the couch in the living room. Les Miserablés in his hands. After a quick glance to the clock – Anya will be in the bookshop she's working in for another two hours – Gleb carefully puts the book aside and walks into the kitchen.

Smiling he goes over to the big cupboard on the left. 

The smile disappears. Disbelieving Gleb stares at the empty shelves.

 _Where are they?_ , he wonders. _Where are all the wonderful sweets Anya normally keeps in here? What did she do to them?_

As if not believing his eyes Gleb extends his fingers to swipe over the empty wood of the shelves.

 _They're gone. They're all gone,_ he realises. 

Normally the cupboard would nearly overflow with all sorts of candy, chocolate and other confectionery. But now there was nothing but cold empty air.

Suddenly Gleb feels something moving around his legs. Startled he looks down.

“Oh, it's just you, Natashenka.”

He bends down to pick up the tabby cat. Running his fingers through her soft grey fur he asks her: “You don't happen to know what Anya did with the sweets?”

“ _Meow_.”

“Yes, didn't think so”, he says and puts her down again.

“There's only one course of action I can take now”, Gleb declares and sets to work.

_Two hours later_

Exhausted but still happy – she loves her job – Anya comes home and expects to find Gleb sitting in the exact same position as she'd left him in. The only difference being a few more pages on the left side of the book.

Instead she's met with chaos. Pure chaos. Nothing is at the place where it's supposed to be.

And right in the middle of it: Gleb, sitting in the centre of a circle made of sweets. _Her_ sweets.

With sad eyes he looks up at her. “I can't find them.”

“Really?”, she inquires. “Maybe that's because it's utter chaos in here! You won't find anything!”

“Oh, yes...sorry about that. I was just trying to find them.”

If she didn't love that man, Anya would kill him then and there.

“Searching for what?! And why have you been eating my sweets. _Again_?”

“You mean these?”, he points at the sweets laying around him. “I haven't eaten any of them. I wanted the Syrniki. I know you still had some.”

Anya sighs. And can't help but smile. He looks like a sad lost puppy, sitting there on the floor.

She knows she should be angry. He tried to steal her sweets again, the good Russian kind and turned their whole flat into chaos in the attempt to find it.

Smiling softly Anya tries to make her way over to Gleb without stepping on anything delicate on the floor.

Without having done any more damage she sits down beside him and draws him into a hug.

Soothingly combing her fingers through his thick black hair she whispers: “Oh, Gleb. I've already eaten all the Syrniki. I took them with me to work.”

The moment these words had left her mouth Gleb's posture stiffens.

As Anya releases him again to take a look at his face, she almost laughs. _It's so adorable how he can look so sad over some lost sweets_ , she thinks. For a moment she even thinks he's blinking away the tears that have formed in his eyes.

“All of them?”, Gleb asks.

“Maybe you can still taste them on my lips”, Anya suggests with a huge smile on her face.

Sulking Gleb crosses his arms. “I won't give you a kiss after you've eaten my Syrniki.”

“They were _mine_!”, she's corrects him and leans forward.

As she moves ever closer, Gleb gives in and presses his lips to hers. He can't be angry at her for too long. _And she's_ technically _right. It_ was _her candy_ , he thinks before loosing himself in the warmth that Anya always causes to spread in his body. Gleb smiles into the kiss.

He really _does_ taste the Syrniki.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Russian Words:  
> Spasibo - Thank you
> 
> Angel moj - my angel
> 
> solnyschko mojo - my sun
> 
> Mamochka - endearment for mother
> 
> Babushka - endearment for grandmother
> 
> Dedushka - endearment for grandfather
> 
> Pastila - small squares of pressed fruite paste: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pastila
> 
> Zefir - Russian sweet, mainly made out of fruite puree, sugar and egg whites, sometimes glazed over with chocolate: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zefir_(food)
> 
> Syrniki - fried quark pancakes: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Syrniki
> 
> The tabby cat Natashenka is borrowed from Alyte's (asmenuke) amazing fic chivalry fell on it’s sword.


End file.
